BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN. 


Contents. 


Biography  of  Benjamin  Franklin  347-362 

Selections  from  Franklin  363-378 

How  Franklin  Learned  to  Write  Good  English  . . 363 

The  Man  with  an  Ax  to  Grind  365 

How  to  Make  Conversation  More  Pleasant  367 

The  Whistle  369 

Poor  Richard’s  Sayings  37* 

Letter  from  Franklin  to  Samuel  Mather  377 

Illustrations : — 

Picture  of  Benjamin  Franklin  347 

Franklin’s  Birthplace  *. 352 


The  Hospital  Which  Franklin  Helped  to  Establish.  .358 


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(Copyright,  1900,  by  C.  M.  Parker.) 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN. 
1706—1790. 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN. 


Many  of  the  great  men  of  our  country  have 
been  born  in  very  humble  circumstances,  a fact 
that  is  true  of  Benjamin  Franklin.  Josiah 
Franklin,  his  father,  was  an  Englishman  who 


—348— 

made  his  living  by  dyeing  clothes.  Josiah 
Franklin  did  not  wish  to  worship  in  the  Church 
of  England,  and  so,  about  1685,  with  his  wife 
and  three  little  children,  he  came  to  America 
to  find  religious  freedom  and  settled  in  Bos- 
ton. Finding  no  use  for  his  trade  here  as  a 
dyer,  he  began  to  sell  tallow  candles  which  were 
everywhere  then  used  for  light.  His  first  wife 
brought  him  seven  children  and  his  second  wife, 
Abiah  Folger,  brought  him  ten,  Benjamin  being 
her  youngest  son. 

In  a plain  little  house  on  Milk  street,  in  Bos- 
ton, on  January  6,  1706,  Benjamin  Franklin  was 
born.  He  was  the  fifteenth  of  seventeen  chil- 
dren, having  two  sisters  younger  than  he  was. 
All  of  his  brothers  were  put  to  work  to  learn 
different  trades,  but  Benjamin’s  early  love  of 
books  and  his  readiness  in  learning  to  read  in- 
duced his  father  to  give  him  an  education.  He 
must  have  been  different  from  most  little  boys 
that  we  know,  for  he  says  in  his  autobiography 
that  he  could  not  remember  when  he  first  learned 
to  read.  Franklin’s  father  hoped  to  have  him 
become  a minister,  and  so  at  the  age  of  eight 
years  Benjamin  was  sent  to  the  grammar  school. 
Here  he  learned  very  rapidly,  and  by  the  end  of 
the  year  he  was  advanced  from  the  beginning 
class  to  the  third  class. 

But  Franklin’s  father  soon  found  that  with  his 
limited  means  he  could  not  give  his  son  a col- 
lege education ; consequently  Franklin  was  taken 


—349— 

from  the  grammar  school  and  sent  to  a school 
for  writing  and  arithmetic,  kept  by  Mr.  George 
Brown  well.  Josiah  Franklin  was  a man  of 
good  judgment  and  common  sense,  and  when  he 
found  that  he  could  not  educate  his  son  as  he 
wished,  he  tried  at  least  to  give  him  a practical 
training  in  ordinary  affairs.  Franklin  soon 
learned  to  write  a good  hand  under  his  new 
master,  but  he  failed  almost  entirely  in  arithme  - 
tic.  At  the  age  of  ten  he  was  taken  from  this 
school  and  set  to  work  running  errands,  cutting 
wicks  and  filling  candle  moulds  in  his  father’s 
shop.  Nowadays  most  boys  and  girls  go  to 
school  for  several  years ; Franklin  had  but  little 
over  two  years  of  training  in  school. 

But  he  did  not  like  the  business  of  making 
candles,  and  he  caused  his  father  much  uneasi- 
ness by  his  fondness  for  ships  and  sailors.  One 
of  his  brothers  ran  away  to  sea  and  Josiah 
Franklin  was  afraid  that  his  youngest  son  would 
also  leave  him  in  this  way.  He  tried  in  every 
way  to  find  what  the  natural  turn  of  Franklin’s 
mind  was,  so  that  he  might  help  him  to  get 
started  in  some  trade,  and  so  took  him  on  long 
walks  with  him  through  the  streets,  among  the 
tanners,  bricklayers,  and  other  workmen.  Benja- 
min had  a natural  liking  for  tools  of  all  sorts, 
and  so  his  father  decided  that  he  should  become 
a maker  of  knives.  He  was  then  sent  to  learn 
the  cutler’s  trade  with  a cousin  who  had  lately 
come  to  Boston  from  London,  but  the  fee  for 


-350- 

learning  was  so  large  that  his  father  was  soon 
obliged  to  bring  him  back  to  the  candle  shop. 

The  two  years  that  Franklin  spent  in  his 
father’s  shop  were  not  entirely  occupied  in  the 
making  of  candles  and  the  running  of  errands. 
His  great  love  of  reading  grew  upon  him,  and 
he  read  almost  everything  that  he  could  lay  his 
hands  upon.  His  father’s  library  was  not  large, 
and  in  fact  there  were  not  many  books  in  all 
Boston,  at  that  time.  Among  the  books  that 
he  read  eagerly  were  Bunyan’s  works  in  sepa- 
rate little  volumes,  Mather’s  Essay  to  Do  Good, 
Plutarch’s  Lives,  and  Defoe’s  Essay  on  Projects. 
After  he  had  read  and  re-read  Pilgrim’s' Prog- 
ress he  sold  it,  and  adding  to  the  proceeds  a lit- 
tle money  that  he  had  hoarded  up,  he  bought 
forty  volumes  of  Burton’s  Historical  Collections. 
This  miscellaneous  reading,  he  tells  us,  in  his 
autobiography,  gave  him  a turn  of  thinking  that 
had  an  influence  upon  some  of  the  principal 
future  events  of  his  life. 

When  he  was  about  twelve  years  old,  Frank- 
lin signed  the  papers  that  were  to  bind  him  as 
an  apprentice  in  printing  until  he  was  twenty - 
one  years  old,  to  his  brother  who  had  lately 
opened  a printing  office  in  Boston.  He  soon 
made  himself  useful  about  the  office,  and  em- 
ployed all  his  spare  moments  in  reading  and  in 
practicing  in  composition.  Being  on  good  terms 
with  an  apprentice  of  one  of  the  Boston  book- 
sellers, Franklin  would  borrow  books  after  the 


-351- 

closing  of  the  shops  in  the  evening  and  sit  up  at 
night  to  read  them  and  then  return  them  in  the 
morning.  He  always  kept  the  books  neat  and 
clean  so  that  their  owner  never  knew  that  they 
had  been  out  of  the  shop.  This  wras  perhaps 
not  a very  honorable  thing  to  do,  but  it  shows 
how  anxious  the  boy  was  to  learn.  He  became 
much  interested  in  the  essays  of  Addison  and 
Steele  in  The  Spectator,  and  practiced  writing 
by  re -producing  the  thoughts  whicti  ne  found 
in  them. 

In  the  course  of  his  reading  he  ran  across  a 
treatise  recommending  a vegetable  diet,  and  he 
at  once  resolved  to  quit  eating  meat  and  to  board 
himself.  For  some  time  he  prepared  his  own 
meals  of  potatoes,  rice,  bread,  cookies  and  rai- 
sins, and  saved  money  with  which  to  buy  more 
books. 

When  Franklin  wTas  about  sixteen  years  old, 
his  brother  established  the  New  England  Cou- 
rant,  the  fourth  newspaper  that  appeared  in 
America.  Franklin  helped  to  compose  the  type 
and  to  print  the  paper  and  then  carried  the 
sheets  to  the  customers.  A number  of  learned 
men  who  were  interested  in  the  success  of  the 
paper,  often  wrote  things  for  it  and  judged  the 
articles  of  other  writers  Franklin,  knowing 
that  the  judges  would  not  think  him  capable  of 
writing,  secretly  wrote  an  article  for  the  paper 
and  slipped  it  under  the  door  of  the  printing 
office  at  night.  The  next  day,  while  at  work 


-352- 

setting  type  in  the  office,  he  heard  the  learned 
men  read  and  praise  his  article  and  recommend 
that  it  be  printed  in  the  paper.  This  encour- 
aged him  so  much  that  he  kept  on  writing  often, 
and  several  of  his  articles  were  printed  before 
anyone  knew  that  the  printer’s  apprentice  wTas 
their  author. 

Franklin’s  brother  got  into ' trouble  with  the 
Assembly  over  an  article  in  The  Courant  and 


franklin’s  BIRTHPLACE. 


was  ordered  to  quit  publishing  the  paper. 
Accordingly  the  paper  was  continued  in  the 
name  of  Benjamin  Franklin  and,  in  order  to 
escape  the  censure  of  the  Assembly,  James 
Franklin  gave  up  his  younger  brother’s  appren- 
tice papers  to  him.  New  papers  were  made  out 
and  kept  in  private.  Franklin  had  trouble  with 
his  brother  and  knowing  that  his  brother  would 
not  dare  to  produce  the  new  papers,  he  declared 
his  freedom  from  apprenticeship.  This  action 


— 353— 

he  records  in  his  autobiography  as  one  of  the 
first  great  errors  of  his  life. 

Escaping  his  father  and  brother  who  attempt- 
ed to  detain  him,  and  selling  his  books  to  raise 
a little  money,  he  set  out  for  New  York.  Being 
unable  to  find  work  there,  he  made  his  way  to 
Philadelphia,  and  the  description  of  his  arrival 
there,  which  he  wrote  himself  many  years  after- 
ward, is  familiar  perhaps  to  almost  all  the  school 
children  in  America.  With  three  rolls  of  bread 
in  his  hands,  with  a single  dollar  in  cash,  and 
with  his  pockets  stuffed  with  extra  shirts  and 
stockings,  the  future  author  and  philosopher 
walked  down  Market  street  in  Philadelphia,  while 
his  future  wife  standing  in  her  father’s  door- 
way, laughed  at  the  sorry  figure  he  cut,  little 
thinking  that  she  was  sometime  to  be  honored 
by  his  name. 

He  soon  found  work  in  Philadelphia  with  a 
printer  named  Keimer.  He  obtained  lodging 
at  the  house  of  a Mr.  Reed,  his  future  father- 
in-law,  and  the  acquaintance  here  formed  with 
Miss  Reed  later  resulted  in  love  and  marriage. 
Franklin’s  frugality  and  industry  attracted  the 
attention  of  many  people,  among  them  being 
Sir  William  Keith,  Governor  of  the  province, 
who  advised  the  young  man  to  start  up  in  busi  - 
ness  for  himself.  So  in  the  latter  part  of  April, 
1724,  Franklin  set  out  for  Boston  with  a letter 
from  the  Governor  to  his  father  urging  him  to 
help  Bejamin  start  a business  in  Philadelphia. 


—354— 

But  Franklin’s  father  thought  the  boy  too  young 
to  manage  a business  of  his  own,  and  sent  him 
back  to  Philadelphia  with  the  promise  of  help 
when  he  became  of  age.  The  Governor  then 
prepared  to  establish  Franklin  in  business  and 
to  send  him  to  London  to  buy  materials  for  a 
printing  office.  It  later  turned  out  that  the 
Governor  had  no  money  and  no  credit,  and  that 
he  was  simply  a good-natured  talker  whose 
kindness  of  heart  got  the  better  of  his  judgment 
and  good  sense. 

Having  some  faith  in  the  Governor’s  project, 
however,  Franklin  decided  to  go  on  the  journey, 
and,  in  the  company  of  a friend,  he  arrived  in 
London  on  December  24,  1724.  The  letters 
which  he  carried  proved  to  be  worthless  so  far 
as  obtaining  the  materials  for  the  printing  office 
was  concerned,  and  so  he  went  to  work  at  Pal- 
mer’s, then  a famous  London  printing  house. 
During  the  eighteen  months  that  he  spent  in 
London  Franklin  passed  his  time  chiefly  among 
the  printers,  trying  to  make  enough  money  to 
pay  his  wTay  home.  On  his  journey  to  London 
he  had  formed  a friendship  with  a Mr.  Denham, 
a Quaker  merchant.  Mr.  Denham  liked  the 
enterprise  of  the  young  man,  and,  when  he  had 
completed  his  business  in  London,  he  proposed 
to  take  Franklin  back  to  Philadelphia  with  him 
as  a clerk. 

After  his  return  to  America,  at  the  death  of 
his  employer,  Mr.  Denham,  Franklin  again 


— 355 — 

turned,  to  the  printing  business  and  became  the 
foreman  of  Keimer’s  shop.  He  did  not  get 
along  amicably  with  his  old  employer,  however, 
and  in  the  spring  of  1728,  in  partnership  with  a 
young  Mr.  Meredith,  a former  apprentice  of 
Keimer’s,  he  began  business  for  himself  and 
established  “The  New  Printing  Office  in  High 
Street  near  the  Market”.  Franklin  had  before 
this  helped  to  organize  a club  called  the  “Junto”, 
made  up  of  earnest,  sensible  men  who  were 
anxious  to  reach  out  for  better  things  than  they 
had  around  them,  and  they  helped  the  young 
printers  to  get  a start  by  bringing  work  to  them. 
In  September,  1729,  Franklin  and  Meredith 
purchased  the  printing  outfit  of  the  bankrupt 
Keimer  and  started  “The  Pennsylvania  Ga- 
zette”. Franklin  soon  bought  out  his  partner, 
and  retained  possession  of  the  Gazette  until  1710. 

About  the  time  of  his  purchase  of  the  Gazette, 
Franklin  resumed  his  visits  to  Miss  Deborah 
Reed  with  whom  he  had  long  been  on  friendly 
terms.  Their  mutual  affection,  which  existed 
before  Franklin  went  to  London  in  1724,  was 
revived  and  they  were  married  on  September  1, 
1730.  This  proved  to  be  a happy  union,  and 
Franklin  tells  us  in  his  autobiography  that  his 
wife  was  always  a good  and  faithful  helpmate. 

Franklin  was  a broad  minded  public  spirited 
man,  and  the  next  fifteen  years  of  his  life  show 
how  he  was  actively  engaged  in  the  interests  of 
his  fellow  men.  True,  he  was  at  this  time  a 


-356- 

newspaper  man,  but  he  did  not  let  this  fact 
keep  him  from  doing  other  things.  In  1731  he 
was  chiefly  instrumental  in  founding  the  Phila- 
delphia Library,  the  first  of  all  the  subscrip- 
tion libraries  in  our  country.  For  this  act  alone 
he  should  be  remembered  as  having  performed 
a great  service  for  his  country.  In  1732  he  first 
published  Poor  Richard’s  Almanac,  which  is 
now  well  known  and  extracts  from  which  are 
now  perhaps  to  be  found  in  every  library  in  the 
United  States.  The  Almanac  was  continued 
for  twenty -five  years,  and  into  it  Franklin  put 
much  of  his  homely  wisdom  and  many  of  his 
now  proverbial  sayings  about  industry,  frugality 
and  thrift.  “Father  Abraham’s  Speech”,  pub- 
lished in  the  Almanac  in  1758,  established  for 
Franklin  almost  a world -wide  fame  as  a writer.  . 
The  speech  was  widely  circulated  at  the  time  of 
its  first  publication,  and  it  has  since  been  printed 
in  almost  all  the  languages  of  Europe.  About 
the  time  of  the  first  publication  of  Poor  Rich- 
ard’s Almanac  Franklin  began  the  practice  of 
what  he  called  a project  of  arriving  at  moral 
perfection.  He  named  the  various  virtues  and 
the  rules  by  which  he  was  to  acquire  them,  in  a * 
little  book  which  he  carried  in  his  pocket  and  in 
which  he  kept  a daily  account  of  his  actions. 

In  1743  Franklin  drew  up  a proposal  for  estab- 
lishing an  , academy  in  Philadelphia  for  the 
higher  education  of  young  men ; in  six  years  the 
academy  was  firmly  established,  and  it  later 


-357- 

became  the  foundation  of  the  University  of 
Pennsylvania.  In  1744  he  organized  a philo- 
sophical society,  and  in  1751  he  was  instrumen- 
tal in  establishing  a hospital  which  was  one  of 
the  first  of  its  kind  in  America.  He  also  pre- 
vailed upon  the  Quaker  Assembly  to  pass  a 
militia  law  and  to  provide  for  the  defense  of  the 
province.  All  of  these  various  schemes  were 
unselfish  movements  on  Franklin’s  part  for  the 
good  of  the  people,  and  his  plans  usually  suc- 
ceeded from  the  fact  that  he  was  always  ready 
with  his  pen  and  that  he  made  liberal  use  of 
newspapers  and  pamphlets  by  which  to  present 
his  ideas  to  the  people. 

But  he  was  not  onty  occupied  with  reforms 
and  with  organization  of  charitable  and  educa- 
tional institutions ; his  genius  was  also  centered 
in  inventions.  In  1742  he  invented  the  open 
stove  which  bears  his  name  and  about  this  time 
began  his  studies  in  electricity,  which  alone 
have  made  his  name  famous.  Every  school  boy 
is  familiar  with  the  story  of  Franklin  and  his 
experiments  in  drawing  lightning  from  the 
clouds.  He  was  at  first  laughed  at  and  ridi- 
culed because  he  advanced  the  idea  that  light- 
ning and  electricity  were  one  and  the  same,  but 
people  soon  came  to  see  the  truth  of  Franklin’s 
theories  and  to  realize  their  importance.  His 
various  writings  on  electricity  brought  him 
further  into  view,  and  he  was  made  a member 
of  the  Royal  Society  of  London  and  presented 


—358— 

with  the  Copley  gold  medal.  He  was  also  given 
the  degree  of  LL.  D.  by  the  Universities  of 
Oxford,  St.  Andrews,  and  Edinburgh. 

Franklin’s  long  career  of  direct  public  service 
began  when  he  was  elected  clerk  of  the  General 
Assembly  in  1736.  In  the  following  year  he 
was  made  postmaster  of  Philadelphia,  and  he  at 
once  set  about  to  reform  the  postal  service.  As 


THE  HOSPITAL  WHICH  FRANKLIN  HELPED  TO  ESTABLISH. 

a result  mails  were  distributed  more  frequently, 
mailbags  were  opened  to  newspapers,  postage 
was  reduced,  and  unclaimed  letters  were  first 
advertised  in  the  newspapers.  In  1753  he  was 
appointed  deputy  postmaster -general  of  the 
colonies.  About  this  time  the  final  contest  for 
supremacy  in  America  between  France  and 
England  had  begun,  and  in  1754  Franklin  was 
a commissioner  from'  Pennsylvania  to  the  con- 
gress at  Albany  in  which  he  proposed  a union  of 
all  the  colonies  under  one  government.  Frank- 
lin’s plan  of  union  was  rejected,  but  he  always 
maintained  that  the  colonies  so  united  would 


—359- 

have  been  able  to  defend  themselves  without  the 
English  troops.  When  war  broke  out  in  earnest 
between  France  and  England,  however,  Frank- 
lin did  efficient  service  in  procuring  horses  and 
wagons  and  various  supplies  for  General  Brad- 
dock’s  army,  and  gave  liberally  from  his  private 
means  for  the  furtherance  of  the  English  cause. 

In  1757  Franklin  went  to  England  as  a repre- 
sentative of  the  province  of  Pennsylvania.  The 
whole  frontier  of  Pennsylvania  was  unprotected 
from  the  Indians  and  the  public  treasury  was 
empty.  In  these  straits  the  assembly  of  Penn- 
sylvania laid  a tax  on  various  articles  of  trade, 
but  did  not  tax  the  proprietors  of  the  old  Penn 
estate.  Franklin’s  mission  to  England  was  to 
insist  that  these  chartered  proprietors  should 
share  with  the  other  people  of  Pennsylvania  the 
cost  of  defending  the  province  from  the  Indians 
and  others.  He  was  successful  in  his  mission, 
and  he  remained  five  years  in  London.  It  was 
during  this  visit  that  he  received  from  the  uni- 
versities the  honors  that  have  already  been 
mentioned . 

He  returned  to  Philadelphia  in  1762  and  for  a 
short  time  retired  from  public  life.  It  was  not 
long,  however,  until  his  services  were  again 
called  for,  and  in  1764  he  again  went  to  Eng- 
land, this  time  on  a different  mission.  We  are 
all  familiar  with  the  causes  which  led  up  to  the 
Revolutionary  War.  The  English  Parliament 
insisted  upon  taxing  the  American  colonies 


—360— 

without  representation.  The  famous  Stamp  Act 
created  great  excitement  among  the  colonists, 
and  Franklin  was  sent  to  London  as  a commis- 
sioner by  the  assembly  of  Pennsylvania,  and 
joined  with  other  colonial  agents  in  protesting 
against  it.  Franklin’s  action  at  this  time  was 
criticised  freely  in  America,  but  history  tells  us 
that  he  was  instrumental  in  the  repeal  of  the 
Stamp  Act  in  1766  and  that  he  did  much  in  his 
writings  for  the  newspapers  to  help  the  Ameri- 
can cause.  The  next  few  years  he  spent  in 
earnestly  endeavoring  to  avert  a war  with  Eng- 
land, but  the  gulf  between  the  mother  country 
and  the  colonies  grew  wider  and  wider,  and  in 
1775  Franklin  decided  that  his  personal  safety 
as  well  as  his  patriotic  devotion  to  his  country 
demanded  that  he  should  return  to  America. 

Immediately  on  his  arrival  home  he  was 
chosen  a member  of  the  Continental  Congress 
and  soon  thereafter  signed  his  name  to  the  Dec  - 
laration  of  Independence.  The  events  that  fol- 
lowed this  declaration  are  familiar.  On  Octo- 
ber 26,  1776,  Franklin  set  sail  for  France  in  the 
interests  of  the  colonies.  His  fame  had  gone 
before,  and  he  was  received  with  almost  univer- 
sal interest  and  respect,  and  his  efforts  were  so 
effective  that  in  February,  1778,  he  signed  a 
treaty  of  alliance,  offensive  and  defensive,  be- 
tween France  and  the  United  States.  Franklin 
thus  directly  obtained  for  us  the  aid  which  the 
French  people  gave  us  in  our  great  struggle  for 


-361- 

freedom  . He  was  then  made  minister  pleni- 
potentiary to  the  French  king,  and  on  Septem- 
ber 3,  1783,  he  signed  the  treaty  of  peace  which 
ended  the  Revolutionary  War.  He  remained 
in  France  as  a minister  until  1785,  when  he  re- 
turned home.  His  health  was  failing,  and  he 
felt  that  he  could  no  longer  perform  the  duties 
of  his  office. 

But  his  people  were  not  even  yet  ready  to  re- 
lieve him  of  public  service,  and  almost  immedi- 
ately after  his  arrival  in  America  he  was  elected 
President  of  the  State  of  Pennsylvania,  an  office 
to  which  he  was  twice  unanimously  elected. 
While  holding  this  office  he  was  a delegate  to 
the  convention  which  framed  the  present  con- 
stitution of  the  United  States. 

In  1788  FranSlin  retired  to  private  life.  But 
he  was  an  old  man,  and  the  vigor  of  his  long 
and  useful  life  was  gone.  Yet  in  his  very  last 
days  he  was  not  idle,  and  almost  his  last  deed 
was  to  sign  a petition  to  Congress  for  the  aboli- 
tion of  slavery  in  Pennsylvania.  In  April,  1790, 
he  was  stricken  with  pleurisy,  and  he  died  on 
the  night  of  April  17,  1790.  He  was  buried  in 
the  yard  of  Christ  Church,  Philadelphia,  and  a 
general  mourning  of  two  months  was  ordered 
by  Congress  as  a tribute  to  his  memory. 

Franklin’s  forty  years  of  public  service  must 
not  make  us  forget  that  he  was  also  a man  of 
letters.  No  other  man  in  America,  perhaps, 
has  attained  to  greatness  in  so  many  different 


-362- 

ways  as  Franklin.  He  was  a philosopher,  a 
scientist,  a statesman  and  diplomat,  and  he  was 
at  all  times  a writer.  Whatever  the  theory  he 
wished  to  advance,  whatever  the  cause  he 
wished  to  help,  his  pen  was  ever  his  ready  ser- 
vant. Much  that  he  wrote,  from  the  fact  that 
it  was  of  current  interest,  has  not  come  down 
to  us.  But  the  most  notable  works  that  he 
produced  will  live  perhaps  as  long  as  the  Eng- 
lish language  lives.  His  essays  in  the  Pennsyl- 
vania Gazette,  Poor  Richard’s  Almanac,  and 
his  Autobiography,  will  always  entitle  him  to 
distinction  in  the  domain  of  letters.  The  secret 
of  excellence  in  his  writing  lies  in  his  wonderful 
good  sense  and  in  his  simplicity.  He  had  some- 
thing worth  saying,  something  that  was  of  inter- 
est to  his  fellow  beings  for  the  reason  that  it 
always  concerned  them  in  one  way  and  another, 
and  he  said  what  he  had  in  mind  to  say  in  sim- 
ple, vigorous  English.  He  was  a great  and 
noted  man,  but  he  was  simple  and  unostenta- 
tious as  a child,  and  his  writings  reveal  his 
character.  As  a master  of  simple,  effective 
English,  he  stands  with  the  first  among  Ameri- 
can writers. 

Thomas  Arkle  Clark, 
University  of  Illinois 


-363- 


SELECTIONS  FROM  BENJAMIN 
FRANKLIN 


HOW  FRANKLIN  LEARNED  TO  WRITE  GOOD  ENGLISH. 

After  some  time  an  ingenious  tradesman,  Mr. 
Matthew  Adams,  who  had  a pretty  collection 
of  books,  and  who  frequented  our  printing- 
house,  took  notice  of  me,  invited  me  to  his  library, 
and  very  kindly  lent  me  such  books  as  I chose 
to  read.  I now  took  a fancy  to  poetry,  and  made 
some  little  pieces ; my  brother,  thinking  it  might 
turn  to  account,  encouraged  me,  and  put  me  on 
composing  occasional  ballads. 

One  was  called  The  Lighthouse  Tragedy,  and 
contained  an  account  of  the  drowning  of  Captain 
Worthilake,  with  his  two  daughters;  the  other 
was  a sailor’s  song,  on  the  taking  of  Teach  (or 
Blackbeard)  the  pirate.  They  were  wretched 
stuff,  in  the  Grub- street  ballad  style;  and  when 
they  were  printed  he  sent  me  about  the  town  to 
sell  them.  The  first  sold  wonderfully,  the  event 
being  recent,  having  made  a great  noise. 

This  flattered  my  vanity;  but  my  father  dis- 
couraged me  by  ridiculing  my  performances,  and 
telling  me  verse -makers  were  generally  beggars. 
So  I escaped  being  a poet,  most  probably  a very 
bad  one ; but  as  prose  writing  has  been  of  great 
use  to  me  in  the  course  of  my  life,  and  was  a 


-364- 

principal  means  of  my  advancement,  I shall  tell 
you  how,  in  such  a situation,  I acquired  what 
little  ability  I have  in  that  way. 

About  this  time  I met  with  an  odd  volume  of 
the  Spectator.  It  was  the  third.  I had  never 
before  seen  any  of  them.  I bought  it,  read  it 
over  and  over,  and  was  much  delighted  with  it. 
I thought  the  writing  excellent,  and  wished,  if 
possible,  to  imitate  it. 

With  this  view  I took  some  of  the  papers,  and, 
making  short  hints  of  the  sentiment  in  each 
sentence,  laid  them  by  a few  days,  and  then, 
without  looking  at  the  book,  tried  to  complete 
the  papers  again,  by  expressing  each  hinted 
sentiment  at  length,  and  as  fully  as  it  had  been 
expressed  before,  in  any  suitable  words  that 
should  come  to  hand.  Then  I compared  my 
Spectator  with  the  original,  discovered  some  of 
my  faults,  and  corrected  them. 

But  I found  I wanted  a stock  of  words,  or  a 
readiness  in  recollecting  and  using  them,  which 
I thought  I should  have  acquired  before  that 
time  if  I had  gone  on  making  verses ; since  the 
continual  occasion  for  words  of  the  same  import, 
but  of  different  length,  to  suit  the  measure,  or 
of  different  sound  for  the  rhyme,  would  have 
laid  me  under  a constant  necessity  of  searching 
for  variety,  and  also  have  tended  to  fix  that 
variety  in  my  mind,  and  make  me  master  of  it. 
Therefore  I took  some  of  the  tales  and  turned 
them  into  verse,  and,  after  a time,  when  I had 


-365- 

pretty  well  forgotten  the  prose,  turned  them 
back  again. 

I also  sometimes  jumbled  my  collections  of 
hints  into  confusion,  and  after  some  weeks  en- 
deavored to  reduce  them  into  the  best  order, 
before  I began  to  form  the  full  sentences  and 
complete  the  paper.  This  was  to  teach  me 
method  in  the  arrangement  of  thoughts. 

By  comparing  my  work  afterwards  with  the 
original,  I discovered  many  faults  and  amended 
them;  hut  I sometimes  had  the  pleasure  of  fan- 
cying that,  in  certain  particulars  of  small  im- 
port, I had  been  lucky  enough  to  improve  the 
method  or  the  language;  and  this  encouraged 
me  to  think  I might  possibly  in  time  come  to  be 
a tolerable  English  writer. 


THE  MAN  WITH  AN  AX  TO  GRIND. 

When  I was  a little  boy,  I remember,  one  cold 
winter’s  morning,  I was  accosted  by  a smiling 
man  with  an  ax  on  his  shoulder.  “My  pretty 
bdy,”  said  he,  “has  your  father  a grindstone?” 

“Yes,  sir,”  said  I. 

“You  are  a fine  little  fellow,”  said  he.  “Will 
you  let  me  grind  my  ax  on  it?” 

Pleased  with  the  compliment  of  “fine  little 
fellow,”  “Oh,  yes  sir,”  I answered.  “It  is 
down  in  the  shop.” 

“And  will  you,  my  man,”  said  he,  patting  me 
on  the  head,  “get  me  a little  hot  water?” 


-366- 

How  could  I refuse?  I ran,  and  soon  brought 
a kettleful. 

“How  old  are  you? — and  what’s  your  name?” 
continued  he,  without  waiting  for  a reply.  “I’m 
sure  you  are  one  of  the  finest  lads  that  I have 
ever  seen.  Will  you  just  turn  a few  minutes 
for  me?” 

Tickled  with  the  flattery,  like  a little  fool,  I 
went  to  work,  and  bitterly  did  I rue  the  day.  It 
was  a new  ax,  and  I toiled  and  tugged  till  I was 
almost  tired  to  death.  The  school  bell  rang, 
and  I could  not  get  away.  My  hands  were  blis- 
tered, and  the  ax  was  not  half  ground. 

At  length,  however,  it  was  sharpened,  and 
the  man  turned  to  me  with,  “How,  you  little 
rascal,  you’ve  played  truant!  Scud  to  the 
school,  or  you’ll  rue  it!” 

“Alas!”  thought  I,  “it  was  hard  enough  to 
turn  a grindstone  this  cold  day,  but  now  to  be 
called  a little  rascal  is  too  much.” 

It  sank  deep  into  my  mind,  and  often  have  I 
thought  of  it  since.  When  I see  a merchant 
over -polite  to  his  customers,  begging  them  to 
take  a little  brandy,  and  throwing  his  goods  on 
the  counter,  thinks  I,  “That  man  has  an  ax  to 
grind.” 

When  I see  a man  flattering  the  people, 
making  great  professions  of  attachment  to  lib- 
erty, who  is  in  private  life  a tyrant,  methinks, 
“Lookout,  good  people!  “That  fellow  would 
set  you  turning  grindstones! ” 


-367- 

When  I see  a man  hoisted  into  office  by  party 
spirit,  without  a single  qualification  to  render 
him  either  respectable  or  useful,  “Alas!”  me- 
thinks,  “deluded  people  you  are  doomed  for  a 
season  to  turn  the  grindstone  for  a booby.” 


HOW  TO  MAKE  CONVERSATION  MORE  PLEASANT. 

My  list  of  virtues  contained  at  first  but  twelve ; 
but  a Quaker  friend  having  kindly  informed  me 
that  I was  generally  thought  proud, — that  my 
pride  showed  itself  frequently  in  conversation, 
— that  I was  not  content  with  being  in  the  right 
when  discussing  any  point,  but  was  overbearing, 
and  rather  insolent,  of  which  he  convinced  me 
by  mentioning  several  instances, — I determined 
to  endeavor. to  cure  myself  of  this  vice  or  folly: 
and  I added  Humility  to  my  list,  giving  an  ex- 
tensive meaning  to  the  word. 

I cannot  boast  of  much  success  in  acquiring 
the  reality  of  this  virtue,  but  I had  a good  deal 
with  regard  to  the  appearance  of  it.  I made  it 
a rule  to  forbear  all  direct  contradiction  to  the 
sentiments  of  others,  and  all  positive  assertion 
of  my  own. 

I even  forbade  myself  the  use  of  every  word 
or  expression  in  the  language  that  imparted  a 
fixed  opinion,  such  as  “certainly”  “undoubted- 
ly,” etc.;  and  I adopted  instead  of  them,  “I 
conceive,”  “I  apprehend,”  or  “I  imagine,”  a 


—368— 

thing  to  he  so  or  so;  or  it  so  “appears  to  me  at 
present.” 

When  another  asserted  something  that  I 
thought  an  error,  I denied  myself  the  pleasure 
of  contradicting  him  abruptly,  and  of  showing 
immediately  some  absurdity  in  his  proposition; 
and  in  answering  I began  by  observing  that,  in 
certain  cases  or  circumstances,  his  opinion 
would  be  right,  but  in  the  present  case  there 
“appeared”  or  “seemed  to  me”  some  difference, 
etc. 

I soon  found  the  advantage  of  this  change  in 
my  manner;  the  conversations  I engaged  in 
went  on  more  pleasantly.  The  modest  way  in 
which  I proposed  my  opinions  procured  them  a 
readier  reception,  and  less  contradiction.  I had 
less  mortification  when  I was  found  to  be  in  the 
wrong ; and  1 more  easily  prevailed  with  others 
to  give  up  their  mistakes,  and  join  with  me, 
when  I happened  to  be  in  the  right. 

This  mode,  which  I at  first  put  on  with  some 
violence  to  natural  inclination,  became  at  length 
so  easy,  and  so  habitual  to  me,  that  perhaps  for 
the  last  fifty  years  no  one  has  ever  heard  a dog- 
matical expression  escape  me. 

And  to  this  habit  (after  my  character  of  in- 
tegrity) I think  it  principally  owing,  that  I had 
early  so  much  weight  with  my  fellow -citizens 
when  I proposed  new  institutions  or  alterations 
in  the  old,  and  so  much  influence  in  public 
councils  when  I became  a member ; for  I was 


—369— 

but  a bad  speaker,  never  eloquent,  subject  to 
much  hesitation  in  my  choice  of  words,  hardly 
correct  in  language,  and  yet  I generally  carried 
my  points. 

In  reality  there  is  perhaps  no  one  of  our  nat  - 
ural  passions  so  hard  to  subdue  as  pride.  Dis- 
guise it,  struggle  with  it,  beat  it  down,  stifle  it, 
mortify  it  as  much  as  one  pleases,  it  is  still 
alive,  and  will  every  now  and  then  peep  out 
and  show  itself. 


THE  WHISTLE. 

When  I was  a child  seven  years  old  my 
friends,  on  a holiday,  filled  my  pocket  with 
coppers.  I went  directly  toward  a shop  where 
cheap  toys  were  sold,  but,  being  charmed  with 
the  sound  of  a whistle  that  I met  by  the  way  in 
the  hands  of  another  boy,  I impulsively  gave 
him  all  my  money  for  it.  I then  came  home, 
and  went  whistling  all  over  the  house,  much 
pleased  with  my  whistle,  but  disturbing  all  the 
family.  My  brothers  and  sisters  and  cousins, 
understanding  the  bargain  I had  made,  told  me 
I had  given  four  times  too  much  for  it ; put  me 
in  mind  what  good  things  I might  have  bought 
with  the  rest  of  the  money,  and  laughed  at  me 
so  much  for  my  folly  that  I cried  with  vexation ; 
and  my  reflections  gave  me  more  chagrin  than 
the  whistle  gave  me  pleasure. 

This,  however,  was  afterward  of  use  to  me, 


—370— 

the  impression  continuing  on  my  mind,  so  that 
often  when  I was  tempted  to  buy  some  unnec- 
essary thing  I said  to  myself,  don’t  give  too 
much  for  the  whistle,  and  I saved  my  money. 

As  I grew  up,  came  into  the  world,  and  ob- 
served the  actions  of  men,  I thought  I met 
with  many,  very  many,  unwise  persons  who 
gave  too  much  for  their  whistles. 

When  I saw  a man  too  fond  of  popularity, 
constantly  employing  himself  in  politics,  and 
neglecting  his  own  affairs  and  ruining  them  by 
that  neglect,  he  pays,  indeed,  said  I,  too  much 
for  his  whistle. 

If  I knew  a miser  who  gave  up  all  of  the 
comforts  of  life  and  all  the  pleasure  of  doing 
good  to  others,  all  the  esteem  of  his  fellow -citi- 
zens and  the  joys  of  benevolent  friendship,  for 
the  sake  of  accumulating  wealth,  poor  man, 
said  I,  you  pay  too  much  for  your  whistle. 

When  I met  with  a man  of  pleasure,  sacrific- 
ing every  laudable  improvement  of  the  mind  and 
of  fortune,  and  ruining  his  health,  mistaken 
man,  said  I,  you  are  providing  pain  for  yourself 
instead  of  pleasure ; you  give  too  much  for  your 
whistle. 

If  I see  a man  fond  of  appearance,  or  of  fine 
clothes,  fine  houses,  fine  furniture,  fine  equi- 
pages for  which  he  contracts  debts,  and  perhaps 
ends  his  career  in  a prison,  alas!  say  I,  he  pays 
dear,  very  dear,  for  his  whistle. 


-371- 


■iZr 

poor  Richard’s  sayings. 

Courteous  Reader : I have  heard  that  nothing 
gives  an  author  so  great  pleasure  as  to  find  his 
works  respectfully  quoted  by  others.  Judge, 
then,  how  much  I must  have  been  gratified  by 
an  incident  I am  going  to  relate  to  you. 

I stopped  my  horse,  lately,  where  a great 
number  of  people  were  collected  at  an  auction 
of  merchants’  goods.  The  hour  of  the  sale  not 
being  come,  they  were  conversing  on  the  bad- 
ness of  the  times ; and  one  of  the  company  called 
to  a plain,  clean  old  man,  with  white  locks: 
“Pray,  Father  Abraham,  what  think  you  of  the 
times'?  Will  not  these  heavy  taxes  quite  ruin 
the  country6?  How  shall  we  ever  be  able  to  pay 
them'?  What  would  you  advise  us  to  do*?” 

Father  Abraham  stood  up  and  replied:  “If 
you  would  have  my  advice,  I will  give  it  to  you 
in  short;  for  ‘a  word  to  the  wise  is  enough,’  as 
Poor  Richard  says.”  They  joined  in  desiring 
him  to  speak  his  mind,  and,  gathering  around 
him,  he  proceeded  as  follows:  “Friends,”  said 
he,  “the  taxes  are  indeed  very  heavy;  and,  if 
those  laid  on  by  the  government  were  the  only 
ones  we  had  to  pay,  we  might  more  easily  dis- 
charge them;  but  we  have  many  others,  and 
much  more  grievous  to  some  of  us. 

“We  are  taxed  twice  as  much  by  our  idleness, 
three  times  as  much  by  our  pride,  and  four  times 
as  much  by  our  folly;  and  of  these  taxes  the  - 


- -372- 

commissioners  can  not  ease  or  deliver  us  by 
allowing  an  abatement.  However,  let  us  heark- 
en to  good  advice,  and  something  may  be  done 
for  us.  ‘Heaven  helps  them  that  help  them- 
selves’, as  Poor  Richard  says. 

“It  would  be  thought  a hard  government  that 
should  tax  its  people  one  tenth  part  of  their 
time  to  be  employed  in  its  service ; but  idleness 
taxes  many  of  us  much  more ; sloth,  by  bring- 
ing on  diseases,  absolutely  shortens  life.  ‘Sloth, 
like  rust,  consumes  faster  than  labor  wears; 
while  the  used  key  is  always  bright,’  as  Poor 
Richard  says.  How  much  more  than  is  neces- 
sary do  we  spend  in  sleep ! forgetting  that  ‘the 
sleeping  fox  catches  no  poultry,’  and  that  there 
will  be  sleeping  enough  in  the  grave. 

“ ‘Lost  time  is  never  found  again;  and  what 
we  call  time  enough,  always  proves  little 
enough.’  Let  us,  then,  be  up  and  doing,  and 
doing  to  the  purpose ; so  by  diligence  shall  we 
do  more  with  less  perplexity.  ‘Drive  thy  busi- 
ness, and  let  not  that  drive  thee;’  and  ‘early  to 
bed,  and  early  to  rise,  makes  a man  healthy, 
wealthy,  and  wise,’  as  Poor  Richard  says. 

“So,  what  signifies  wishing  and  hoping  for 
better  times'?  We  may  make  these  times  better 
if  we  bestir  ourselves.  ‘Industry  need  not  wish, 
and  he  that  lives  upon  hopes  will  die  fasting.’ 
‘There  are  no  gains  without  pains ; then  help 
hands,  for  I have  no  lands.’  ‘He  that  hath  a 
trade,  hath  an  estate;  and  he  that  hath  a call- 


-373- 

ing,  hath  an  office  of  profit  and  honor ; ’ but  then 
the  trade  must  be  worked  at,  and  the  calling 
well  followed,  or  neither  the  estate  nor  the  office 
will  enable  us  to  pay  our  taxes.  Work  while  it 
is  called  to-day,  for  you  know  not  how  much 
^ you  may  be  hindered  to-morrow.  ‘One  to-day 
is  worth  two  to  -morrows,  ’ as  Poor  Richard  says ; 
and  further,  ‘Never  leave  that  till  to-morrow 
which  you  can  do  to-day.’ 

“If  you  were  a servant,  would  you  not  be 
ashamed  that  a good  master  should  catch  you 
idle?  Are  you,  then,  your  own  master?  Be 
ashamed  to  catch  yourself  idle,  when  there  is  so 
much  to  be  done  for  yourself,  your  family,  and 
your  country.  It  is  true,  there  is  much  to  be 
done,  and  perhaps  you  are  weak-handed;  but 
stick  to  it  steadily,  and  you  will  see  great  effects ; 
for  ‘constant  dropping  wears  away  stones,’  and 
‘little  strokes  fell  great  oaks.’ 

“I  think  I hear  some  of  you  say,  ‘Must  a man 
afford  himself  no  leisure?’  I will  tell  you,  my 
friends,  what  Poor  Richard  says : ‘Employ  thy 
time  well,  if  thou  meanest  to  gain  leisure;  and 
since  thou  art  not  sure  of  a minute,  throw  not 
away  an  hour.’  Leisure  is  time  for  doing  some- 
thing useful ; this  leisure  the  diligent  man  will 
obtain,  but  the  lazy  man  never;  for  ‘a  life  of 
leisure  and  a life  of  laziness  are  two  things.’ 

“But  with  our  industry  we  must  likewise  be 
steady,  settled,  and  careful,  and  oversee  our 
own  affairs  with  our  own  eyes,  and  not  trust  too 


-374- 

much  to  others;  for,  as  Poor  Richard  says, 
‘Three  removes  are  as  had  as  a fire and  again, 
‘Keep  thy  shop,  and  thy  shop  will  keep  thee;’ 
and  again,  ‘If  you  would  have  your  business 
done,  go;  if  not,  send;’  and  again,  ‘The  eye  of 
the  master  will  do  more  work  than  both  his 
hands;’  and  again,  ‘Want  of  care  does  us  more 
damage  than  want  of  knowledge.’ 

“A  man’s  own  care  is  profitable,  for  ‘if  you 
would  have  a faithful  servant,  and  one  that  you 
like,  serve  yourself.’  ‘A  little  neglect  may 
breed  great  mischief.’  ‘For  want  of  a nail,  the 
shoe  was  lost ; for  want  of  a shoe,  the  horse  was 
lost;  and  for  want  of  a horse,  the  rider  was 
lost,’  being  overtaken  and  slain  by  the  enemy — 
all  for  want  of  a little  care  about  a horse -shoe 
nail. 

“So  much  for  industry,  my  friends,  and  atten- 
tion to  one’s  own  business ; but  to  these  we  must 
add  frugality,  if  we  would  make  our  industry 
more  certainly  successful.  A man  may,  if  he 
knows  not  how  to  save  as  he  gets,  keep  his 
nose  to  the  grindstone  all  his  life,  and  die  not 
worth  a groat  at  last.  ‘If  you  would  be  wealthy, 
think  of  saving  as  well  as  of  getting.’  ‘The 
Indies  have  not  made  Spain  rich,  because  her 
outgoes  are  greater  than  her  incomes.’ 

“Away  with  your  expensive  follies,  and  you 
will  not  then  have  so  much  cause  to  complain 
of  hard  times,  heavy  taxes,  and  chargeable 
families;  for  ‘what  maintains  one  vice  would 


—375— 

bring  up  two  children.’  Beware  of  little  ex- 
penses. ‘Many  a little  makes  a mickle;’  ‘A 
small  leak  will  sink  a great  ship.’  Here  you 
are  all  got  together  at  this  sale  of  fineries  and 
knickknacks.  You  call  them  goods,  but,  if  you 
do  not  take  care,  they  will  prove  evils  to  some 
of  you. 

“You  expect  they  will  be  sold  cheap,  ana  per- 
haps they  may  be,  for  less  than  cost ; but,  if  you 
have  no  occasion  for  them,  they  must  be  dear 
to  you.  Remember  what  Poor  Richard  says: 
‘Buy  what  thou  hast  no  need  of,  and  ere  long 
thou  shalt  sell  thy  necessaries.’  ‘Silks,  satins, 
scarlet,  and  velvets  put  out  the  kitchen -fire.’ 
These  are  not  the  necessaries  of  life ; they  can 
scarcely  be  called  the  conveniences;  and  yet, 
only  because  they  look  pretty,  how  many  want 
to  have  them ! 

“By  these  and  other  extravagances,  the  great- 
est are  reduced  to  poverty,  and  forced  to  bor- 
row of  those  whom  they  formerly  despised,  but 
who,  through  industry  and  frugality,  have 
maintained  their  standing.  ‘If  you  would  know 
the  value  of  money,  go  and  try  to  borrow  some ; 
for  he  that  goes  a -borrowing  goes  a- sorrowing;’ 
and,  indeed,  so  does  he  that  lends  to  such  peo- 
ple, when  he  goes  to  get  it  again. 

“It  is  as  truly  folly  for  the  poor  to  ape  the 
rich,  as  for  the  frog  to  swell  in  order  to  equal 
the  ox.  After  all,  this  pride  of  appearance  can 
not  promote  health,  nor  ease  pain ; it  makes  no 


-376- 

increase  of  merit  in  the  person ; it  creates  envy ; 
it  hastens  misfortunes. 

“But  what  madness  it  must  be  to  run  in  debt 
for  superfluities!  Think  what  you  do  when 
you  run  in  debt : you  give  to  another  power  over 
your  liberty.  If  you  can  not  pay  at  the  time, 
you  will  be  ashamed  to  see  your  creditor:  you 
will  be  in  fear  when  you  speak  to  him ; you  will 
make  poor,  pitiful,  sneaking  excuses,  and  by 
degrees  come  to  lose  your  veracity,  and  sink 
into  base,  downright  lying;  for  ‘the  second  vice 
is  lying,  the  first  is  running  in  debt,’  as  Poor 
Richard  says;  and  again,  ‘Lying  rides  upon 
debt’s  back.’ 

“When  you  have  got  your  bargain,  you  may 
perhaps  think  little  of  payment ; but  ‘creditors 
have  better  memories  than  debtors;  creditors 
are  a superstitious  sect,  great  observers  of  days 
and  times.’  If  you  bear  your  debt  in  mind,  the 
term,  which  at  first  seemed  so  long,  will,  as  it 
lessens,  appear  extremely  short.  ‘Those  have 
a short  Lent  who  owe  money  to  be  paid  at  Easter.  ’ 

“This  doctrine,  my  friends,  is  reason  and 
wisdom;  but  industry,  and  frugality,  and  pru- 
dence may  all  be  blasted  without  the  blessing  of 
Heaven.  Therefore  ask  that  blessing  humbly, 
and  be  not  uncharitable  to  those  that  at  present 
seem  to  want  it,  but  comfort  and  help  them.” 

The  old  gentleman  ended  his  harangue.  The 
people  heard  it,  and  approved  the  doctrine,  and 
immediately  practiced  the  contrary,  just  as  if  it 


—377- 

had  been  a common  sermon;  for  the  auction 
opened,  and  they  began  to  buy  extravagantly. 
I found  the  good  man  had  thoroughly  studied 
my  almanac,  and  digested  all  I had  dropped  on 
these  topics  during  the  course  of  twenty -five 
years.  The  frequent  mention  he  made  of  me 
must  have  tired  any  one  else ; but  my  vanity 
was  wonderfully  delighted  with  it,  though  I was 
conscious  that  not  a tenth  part  of  the  wisdom 
was  my  own  which  he  ascribed  to  me,  but  rather 
the  gleanings  that  I had  made  of  the  sense  of 
all  ages  and  nations. 

However,  I resolved  to  be  the  better  for  the 
echo  of  it ; and,  although  I had  at  first  deter- 
mined to  buy  stuff  for  a new  coat,  I went  away 
resolved  to  wear  my  old  one  a little  longer. 
Reader,  if  thou  wilt  do  the  same,  thy  profit  will 
be  as  great  as  mine.  I am,  as  ever,  thine  to 
serve  thee. 

LETTER  FROM  FRANKLIN  TO  SAMUEL  MATHER. 

I received  your  kind  letter,  with  your  excel- 
lent advice  to  the  people  of  the  United  States, 
which  I read  with  great  pleasure,  and  hope  it 
will  be  duly  regarded.  Such  writings,  though 
they  may  be  lightly  passed  over  by  many  read  - 
ers,  yet,  if  they  make  a deep  impression  on  one 
active  mind  in  a hundred,  the  effects  may  be 
considerable.  Permit  me  to  mention  one  little 
instance,  which  though  it  relates  to  myself , will 
not  be  quite  uninteresting  to  you.  When  I was 
a boy,  I met  with  a book,  entitled  “Essays  to 
do  Good,”  which  I think  was  written  by  your 


— 378- 

father.  It  had  been  so  little  regarded  by  a 
former  possessor,  that  several  leaves  of  it  were 
torn  out ; but  the  remainder  gave  me  such  a turn 
of  thinking,  as  to  have  an  influence  on  my  con  - 
duct  through  life ; for  I have  always  set  a greater 
value  on  the  character  of  a doer  of  good,  than 
on  any  other  kind  of  reputation ; and  if  I have 
been,  as  you  seem  to  think,  a useful  citizen,  the 
public  owes  the  advantage  of  it  to  that  book. 

You  mention  your  being  in  your  seventy - 
eighth  year;  I am  in  my  seventy- ninth;  we  are 
grown  old  together.  It  is  now  more  than  sixty 
years  since  I left  Boston,  but  I remember  well 
both  your  father  and  grandfather,  having  heard 
them  both  in  the  pulpit  and  seen  them  in  their 
houses.  The  last  time  I saw  your  father  was  in 
the  beginning  of  1724,  when  I visited  him  after 
my  first  trip  to  Pennsylvania.  He  received  me 
in  his  library,  and  on  my  taking  leave  showed 
me  a shorter  way  out  of  the  house  through  a 
narrow  passage,  which  was  crossed  by  a beam 
overhead.  We  were  still  talking  as  I withdrew, 
he  accompanying  me  behind,  and  I turning 
partly  toward  shim,  when  he  said  hastily,  “Stoop, 
stoop!”  I did  not  understand  him,  till  I felt 
my  head  hit  against  the  beam.  He  was  a man 
that  ne vrer  missed  any  occasion  of  giving  in- 
stiuction,  and  upon  this  he  said  to  me,  “You 
are  young,  and  have  the  world  before  you; 
stoop  as  you  go  through  it,  and  you  will  miss 
many  hard  thumps.”  This  advice,  thus  beat 
into  my  head,  has  frequently  been  of  use  to  me ; 
and  I often  think  of  it,  when  1 see  pride  morti- 
fied, and  misfortunes  brought  upon  people  by 
their  carrying  their  heads  too  high.  . . . 

Passy,  12  May,  1784.  B.  Franklin. 


I U.  OF  I.  U 


BIOGRAPHIES  OF 
GREAT  AMERICAN  AUTHORS. 


Written  especially  for  School  Reading  by  Thomas  Arkle 
Clark  of  the  University  of  Illinois. 


Description  and  Size. 

Each  booklet  contains  32  to  40  pages,  neatly  printed  in 
clear,  readable  type  and  bound  in  attractive  paper  cover. 

Contents. 

The  first  eighteen  to  twenty  pages  of  each  booklet  gives 
an  interesting  biographical  sketch  of  the  author,  written  es- 
pecially for  school  reading.  The  remaining  pages  contain 
from  three  to  six  noted  selections  from  the  author  to  be 
studied  in  connection  with  the  biographical  sketch. 

Illustrations. 

Each  booklet  contains  three  or  more  appropriate  illus- 
trations, such  as  a picture  of  the  author,  birthplace,  home,  etc. 
Some  of  the  pictures  are  of  historic  interest. 

List  of  Biographies  of  Great  American  Authors. 

To  date  biographies  of  the  following  American  authors 
have  been  published,  each  in  a separate  booklet; — 

No.  1.  John  Greenleaf  Whittier; 

No.  2.  Washington  Irving; 

No.  3.  Daniel  Webster; 

No.  4.  Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow; 

No.  5.  William  Cullen  Bryant; 

No.  6.  Nathaniel  Hawthorne; 

No.  7.  Edgar  Allan  Poe; 

No.  8.  James  Fenimore  Cooper; 

No.  9.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes; 

No.  10.  Benjamin  Franklin; 

No.  11.  James  Russell  Lowell; 

No.  12.  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson; 

No.  13.  Alice  and  Phoebe  Cary. 

Biographies  of  other  American  authors  will  be  added  to 
above  list  later. 

Price. 

Single  copy  of  any  Biography,  10  cents,  postpaid;  in 
quantity  of  five  or  more,  only  6 cents  a copy,  postpaid. 

Send  all  orders  direct  to 

0.  M.  PARKER,  Publisher,  Taylorville,  Illinois. 

(See  list  of  Biographies  of  English  Authors  on  next  page.) 


* 


university  OP  ILLIN0I9-URBANA 


3 0112  098689380 


BIOGRAPHIES  OF 


GREAT  ENGLISH  AUTHORS. 


tMj 


Written  especially  for  school  reading  by  Thomas  Arkle 
Clark  of  the  University  of  Illinois. 

_ 

. 

Description  and  Size. 


e. 

Each  booklet  contains  32  pages,  neatly  printed  in  clear, 

readable  type,  and  bound  in  attractive  paper  cover. 

' 

Contents. 

The  first  eighteen  to  twenty  pages  of  each  booklet  gives 
an  interesting  biographical  sketch  of  the  author,  written  es- 
pecially for  school ' reading.  The  remaining  pages  contain 
from  three  to  six  noted  selections  from  the  author,  to  he 


from  three  to  six  noted  selections  from  the  author,  to  be 
studied  in  connection  with  the  biographical  sketch. 


Illustrations. 


Each  booklet  contains  three  or  more  appropriate  illus- 
trations, such  as  a picture  of  the  author,  birthplace,  etc. 
Some  of  the  pictures  are  of  historic  interest. 


msm 


List  of  Biographies  of  Great  English  Authors. 

There  are  twelve  booklets  in  this  series  as  follows: — 


No.  1. 
No.  2. 
No.  3. 
No.  4. 
No.  5. 
No.  6. 
No.  7. 
No.  8. 
No.  9. 
No.  10. 
No.  n. 
No.  12. 


Daniel  Defoe; 

Joseph  Addison; 
Oliver  Goldsmith; 
Robert  Southey; 
William  Wordsworth; 
Robert  Burns; 

John  Keats; 

Percy  Bysshe  Shelley; 
Sir  Walter  Scott  ; 
Charles  Lamb; 

Alfred  Tennyson; 
Charles  Dickens. 


in 


Price. 

Single  copy  of  any  Biography,  10  cents,  postpaid; 
quantity  of  five  or  more,  only  6 cents  a copy,  postpaid. 

Send  all  orders  direct  to  * 

C.  M.  PARKER,  Publisher,  Taylorville,  Illinois. 

(See  list  of  Biographies  of  American  Authors  on  preceding 
page.) 


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